


The Stars That Call Us To Them

by J_Ace_Flicker



Series: Humans In Space [2]
Category: humans are space orcs - Fandom, humans are weird - Fandom
Genre: All Aboard, Autism, Humans Are Weird, I have strong feelings about how the sci fi genre is, I might do em, Introspection, Like, Nonbinary Character, first three are OLD as HECK so the writing isn't the best, fuck those old crusty white men, gays in space, it's all queers and neurodivergence up here, no promises but, one shots, requests? OPEN, so feel free to hmu, spruced em up a bit but like still, this is for catharsis, who write misogyny, who write pedophilia, who write racism, with prompts and ideas, yall know the type
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-09-27 20:04:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20413534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_Ace_Flicker/pseuds/J_Ace_Flicker
Summary: A series of Humans Are Weird One Shots.Feel free to say things you would like to see in the comments~





	1. Exceptional

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So if you didn't read the tags (which is a bad habit and I speak of that from experience) then I just want to say that the first three chapters will not be the best. They aren't terrible but I wrote them years ago. I did some light editing but I didn't rewrite them entirely so they're a bit Ehhhhh. So I'm sorry for that!

It is well established among all sentient species that Humans are Weird. Exceptional Humans, however, make the regular Humans seem almost tame in comparison.

Yatrov was to show the newest crew member-- another Human-- “the ropes”, as Human Jenny had phrased it.

Upon arriving, however, the newest Human barely spared xir even a glance, which was odd, seeing how Humans prize interaction above all else. Shrugging it off, xe delicately held out a clawed hand to engage in the Human positive-meeting greeting, a “hand-shake” it was aptly named. “I am known as Yatrov, in Human Common tongue, and use the xe/xir pronouns. I am sorry to say that I was unable to read your file report, and am thus left without your name. What is it you wish to be called?” Yatrov was genuinely sorry; the ship was in dire need of repairs, and this Human was coming to help. The least xe could have done was read the Human’s file.

Instead of taking the proffered hand, the human’s brown eyes stared above xi’s own violet one. “I am Giovanni. I use he/him pronouns. And you are approximately seven minutes late. I do not fault you for your tardiness, your job is a busy one, so any apologies you might be tempted to make are void. I do not need to see the entirety of this ship, I only require the engine room. Take me there and I will begin repairs immediately. Social niceties and other such meaningless things can be done at a later date, if done they must be at all.”

Yatrov felt somewhat slighted; xe’s species did not greet with touch, but it was seen as an insult-- a social misdemeanor, as it were-- to deny the shaking of hands. Attributing it to the Human having been under circumstances that made him “cranky” and to the fact that the Human was excited to work-- Humans forgot norms when excited, xe had found-- Yatrov continued to try to create a pack-bond with this Human, “I have heard many great things about you.”

“Truly?” The Human considered this for a moment, head tilting, “I am merely faster than most, mentally. A marathoner is not spoken of in as high-esteem as those with quick mental facilities are, are they?” The Human was speaking out loud, xe found this practice odd and ignored it. “What exactly have you heard?” The Human tapped their legs with their fingers, adopting a rhythm unknown to xir, and hummed. 

Arrogance or curiosity? “Admittedly, not much has been told. I know that you have several thesis papers, have repaired and improved upon numerous ships, and that you were good enough that our captain was surprised that you even bothered to consider joining our crew.”

“Huh.” And that was that. Giovanni did not speak after that, made no effort whatsoever to communicate. Giovanni did not try to obtain physical contact. Giovanni remained aloof with even Human crewmates long after he had joined. He also remained fidgety, seemingly unable to keep still, unless it was to engage in a staring contest with the resident cat-- to keep the Humans from adopting a weirder, more deadly creature-- or to continue his single-minded work with the machinery.

Three weeks after he had joined, the ship was attacked. Vernians boarded the ship, using their many appendages to apprehend many members of The Highlight at once. No one knew where Giovanni was, and no one would have been surprised if he had left to save his own hide.

Which was precisely why everyone, all of which were bound and trying to negotiate with what was essentially pirates, was surprised when Giovanni came around the corner, an unconscious Vernian held under his gun point.

Phasers pointed at him, Vernians shifted to attack their new target. 

“What you need to know: firstly, I have hacked into your language processors. All Vernae will sound like gibberish. Negotiations are non-viable.” He paused, then grinned ferally. “Try”, he dared.

“Kir-ah?!” They did, and did not seem pleased with the results.

“Back! Restore! Hajvik gerun!” the voices of Vernians screeched. 

“Secondly,” he paused to press the barrel of the gun into the captive Vernian’s head, “I will shoot your friend if you do not release my own.” When an uproar of shouting started again, he blandly stated, “Point blank… It will be quite messy, won’t it?” He hummed, as though in thought, though his eyes trailed after every movement the Vernians made.

A smaller one, likely emotionally closer to the Vernian Giovanni was holding captive, pounced.

_ ZZZZZT-PA!  _ The Vernian howled, two of its 11 arms were blown off. 

“My threat is far from idle. Do not test me again.”

The room quieted just before the members of The Highlighterbegan to slowly be released.

“Thirdly.” His lips pursed, his nose tilted, his sneer turned deathly. “Run, and pray that I never see you again!” He shot a wall, and they scattered, leaving the crew of The Highlighter mostly unscathed.

It was hours later, after the chaos was settled and the ship fixed up again, that Yatrov approached Giovanni.

“Why did you save us?”

Giovanni scrunched his thick eyebrows together, “Why ever would I not?”

“You make no attempt to communicate with us.” Yatrov insisted, trying to discover the reason Giovanni would do something without some sort of gain.

“Oh, that.” He dismissively waved his hand, his face again lax and bored. “I do not see the point in wasting words. I enjoy the presence of the crew, and-- while I see no point in engaging in it-- their idle chatter is amusing to listen to.” He raised an eyebrow, “Why do you ask?”

“The crew operated under the belief that you disliked us.” Yatrov felt a small bit of shame; clearly, Yatrov had been wrong to assume that all Humans were so similar.

“I--” He looked hurt, eyes filling with water-- tears, they were called, and Yatrov knew that this was not a good sign. His lips twitched, his words near whispered, “Did you not consider me a friend? I thought we were.” He had begun nervously threading his fingers, humming lightly.

“I thought you disliked me.” Yatrov’s admission only increased xir’s guilt, and the slight tremors of the Humans smaller body seemed to worsen.

“I made you and the others a new computer.” Giovanni’s eyes searched Yatrov’s face, and again found no solace. A computer did not equate to friendship. “I  _ made  _ you and the others a new computer.” The emphasis hit Yatrov. Why would one hand make something if the person receiving it did not matter to them? The old one could have easily been fixed with much less effort.

“I am not very familiar with human behaviors.”

His hands clenched and unclenched. Close one, two, open; close one, flex open, flex open; close one, two, three, open; repeat. “My behaviors are not the norm.”

Xe smiled a little as xe said, “I know that much.”

Giovanni smirked. “I have a neurodivergence known as autism. It is why I did not touch you when I first met you. If I am unfamiliar or untrusting of a person, any sort of physical contact is… Unpleasant.” He frowned again though, and turned his head down as he clutched his arms around himself. “But did none of you. Did not a single one of you think we were friends?”

“I am sorry.” The non-answer was damning. Giovanni tried to make himself appear even smaller. Yatrov paused, xe had seen it in a Human film once, maybe… Maybe? “Can we start over?” A small nod eased Yatrov’s mind and reaffirmed xir’s decision. “I am the one known as Yatrov, and I enjoy reading: fiction, typically.” Xe did not hold out his hand, but looked straight at Giovanni.

The smirk on Giovanni’s face told xir that the actions-- or lack thereof-- had not been missed. “I am known as Giovanni.” He held out his hand, looking far more comfortable than Yatrov could ever remember seeing him. As their hands clasped he said, “I enjoy sandwiches, science, and conversations on how realistic or achievable a work of fiction could plausibly be. It will be a pleasure to work with you.”

Humans were odd, but Exceptional Humans lived by a very different set of rules. Intelligence changed their perceptions. Creativity altered every thought. But it was kindness, it was  _ love _ , that separated the normal Humans from the Exceptional. An infection known as  _ bravery  _ would begin to fester, a disease called  _ trust _ culminated in every interaction. Some Humans were stronger in a way beyond physical and Yatrov knew, from personal experience, that they were still Human, still fantastic and horrifying awe inspiring, at their core. Yatrov put down the book xe was reading, looking up to watch Giovanni’s animated expressions as he ranted to Human Jenny about the issues with the most popular alloys used in modern engines. Yes, truly, Humans are Weird.

But xir’s Human is Exceptional.


	2. Curiosity

The Humans aboard the ship are all odd. Self-destructive. They drink poison so that they can get “tipsy” and sway and forget and fall apart. They inhale smoke that tears apart their lungs. Their eyes become misted over or steely when a bad memory is brought up.

Humans are strange and new, soft and fleshy and vulnerable, and they are taught not to cope. Not to move on. Destructive behaviors are idolized: these behaviors are prettily painted behind stoic characters that refuse to talk about what they need to come to terms with, behind “parties” and “fun” and “don’t be a stick-in-the-mud”.

He is not sure that he has ever seen any other sentients do this to themselves.

It is when he finds designation Ashlee staring outside her window, almost imperceptibly swaying, that he finally gets an answer.

“I wonder what it would be like to jump from this high up, Eqin’arr? I know that the pressure of space would crush my head, that I would freeze, but how long would that take? Would it be too quick for me to realize?” She put her hand on the window, lightly pushing, and he was nearly asphyxiating on his anxiety. Horror welling up within him. Would he have to restrain designation Ashlee? “What would it be like to be pulled into the vacuum that is space?” She turned to face him, smiling with her teeth. That still seemed predatory to him, even though logically he knew that their soft skinned biology did not have the same programming as his own, scalier version. “I guess I’ll never know.” She threw her head back in a laugh, “Relax, dude.” Her hand thumped his thorax and he bit down a growl, “It’s just curiosity. I’m not going to do anything!”

And it felt like a blow to the face. He knew why the humans were so idiotic. All sentient creatures had some form of curiosity. Lusting for knowledge, adventure, mischief— that was not uncommon. No, it was that Humans did not have a control on their curiosity. They could not turn it off.

Briefly, he wondered if the Council had discussed this. They had discussed creatures with less than six appendages being considered disabled— promptly overruled. But did they know about this? That humans were unable to turn off their curiosity? The term Intrusive Thoughts made so much more sense, now.

He shuddered, and quickly absconded. Humans were weird, and their inability to grasp social customs and stop hurting themselves was slowly driving him insane.


	3. Console

“Is everything alright, Wixi’nan?” a Human approaches Wixi’nan, arms splayed out wide and movements slow. Their voice is lower and softer than usual, which causes the thick brow on Wixi’nan’s gray skin to furrow and her appendages to crack and elongate in frustration.

“I am fine.” her tone is clipped; she regards the dark eyes of the Human designated “Asper” with caution. “Why ix- ith— your language ix quite complicated— it that you ax? I am performing my dutieth in a perfunctory and timely manner; if what you fear that my efficienxy has declined thinx laxt we were met, then conthern yourself no longer.” Most Xota’ilianths would end the conversation there, as that would be their only concern until work was over. However, the Humans operated differently.

The Human nodded their head decisively, short hair bobbing with their movements. “Right, so you  _ are _ sad. Follow me.” 

Wixi’nan was loathe to admit, but Asper was right. It was just that she was supposed to be working, and complaints were rude and seen as a negative reflection on her leader, so she has stayed silent. She shadowed the Human’s soft steps with the snaps and hisses that came from her movements.

A door slid open with a chirping whir, and the Human pointed at a lump of stuffed cotton, “Sit.” Gentle sounds started emitting from the ship’s speakers, and her antennae shot up and twitched wildly, face flushing to a dark color in preparation for a fight. The sounds of waterfalls and what Humans called “piano” and “bass” soon soothed her frayed nerves, however. It might be the “music” that the Humans talked of, but it sounded different. Xota’ilianths much preferred chanting and more structured sounds— patterns relaxed them. She sat, noting that the pile of stuffed cotton— called “pillows” by the Humans— was surprisingly comfortable. A mug of—  _ something _ — was shoved into her hands; she briefly noted that the Human was so SMALL in comparison to hers.

“Do you want to talk about it?” the Human sipped at their own  _ something _ as they inquired as to her problems. 

“No. Now, what ix thix odd drink?” It was good, she admitted. As a semi-cold-blooded specie, warmth was to be appreciated. 

She would not have been surprised if her abrupt topic change offended Asper. It would, certainly, offend many of her own kind.

She was startled when Asper simply went, “Okay. And hot chocolate.” Before delving into stories: history and historical differences between their cultures (”Humanth have more than one culture?!” “Oh, yes. We’re all quite spread out, you see, and so we developed according to different conditions and our cultures grew around our environments!” “Fascinating.”), interesting things that had happened to them (What is a Gern?” “Believe me, A’per, you do not wish to know.”). After conversation tired, Asper offered Wixi’nan a book, and in silence they enjoyed the comfort of being close to another. 

It was at the beginning of the next half-rotation of the nearest planet that the duo would awaken, in what Asper referred to as a “pillow fort”.

“Thank you, A’per.” Her large hand engulfed her… friend’s. “Your name might mean ‘rough’ and ‘harsh’, but it clearly ix no reflection of you” 

“Any time, Wixi’nan.” Asper flashed a grin, before their facial emotions completed disappeared, startling Wixi’nan, “But you doubt the Human race and their ability to destroy and surprise; specifically  _ my _ ability to be totally wicked!” Another grin, and Asper bounded away. The Human was off to investigate the “dangerous” beast. They scoffed. They had seen videos of it, it was TOTALLY just an oversized puppy with a forked tongue, wings, claws, and what looked like armored fish scales. So what? It loved pets and treats and responded well to soothing voices! Why did the other Sentients not realize the simple truth that Humans had? 

A friend comes in many shapes.


	4. Quaint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiara loves language, Ki'paldagr is annoyed by its duplicit nature. Well, if it is Kiara speaking, xe finds that language can become something lovable.

Humans tend to dance around words. They do not just say “complicated”, but also “complex” and “intricate” and “like a spider weaving its web, like the sun’s dance with the moon, like the way the stars light up a room in technicolors if they hit the glass just right”. Humans believe that  _ words  _ are equivalent to  _ art _ : a wordsmith is one talented in its usage.

Ki’paldagr, affectionately called “Kip” or “Dagger”, was in no mood to be speaking with the Human aboard. “Speaking” was too mild a term for the verbal gymnastics he had to try his hand at each time she approached.

“Kip!” She had spotted him. Why did she insist on singling xe out?

“What is it you want, Human Designate: Engineer; Ki-ah-ruh?” Xe wanted to go. Xe could be engaging in restful, restorative activity instead of verbally sprinting through a metaphorical maze blindfolded. A blindfold would not do much to xir, considering that xe’s species saw through something similar to Human pores, but it was an apt descriptor of xir’s feelings on this matter, xe felt.

“It’s ‘Kiara’, silly goose.” she laughed, and her body moved to shake with kind amusement. Xe did not know when a goose had become involved in this conversation, but it had. “I just wanted to know if you wouldn’t mind reading my latest work! It’s a traditional haiku set up, based on the abandoned homes on the Desolated planet we last landed on.” Kir-ar-ah claimed that perhaps talking to her was more difficult because she “dabbled” in “poetry” in addition to her work on the crew as the head engineer.

Social nicety dictated that xe at least  _ pretend  _ to be interested, but xe found that xe did not have to feign interest at all. Human Word-Language was interesting, when xe did not have to attempt it xirself. “I do not mind, Kir-ar-uh.”

“‘Ki-ar-uh.” she sounded out for xir.

“Is that not what I said?” Ki’paldagr grew impatient. “Read me this ‘haiku’, Key.” 

At the sound of her nickname, Kiara seemed to grow bigger, and her smile widened. Why did humans think a display of teeth was in any way pleasant? “Okay!” Clearing her throat, she began:

_ “Peel away grime, rot _

_ The filth clings to its body _

_ Decay, quietly _

_ “Windows closed, coldness, _

_ Forlornly sighing curtains _

_ Hang straight, gather dust _

_ “Fairy dust or old _

_ Age, coming undone, fallen _

_ Hero; battle time _

_ “Perhaps a whisper _

_ Will wake under the floorboards _

_ That scream beneath feet _

_ “Creaking bones, dead wood _

_ Its body once housed lovely _

_ Things; it falls apart” _

She looked expectantly at xir. “So? Was it any good?”

Xe did not know how to feel. It was not bad, but xe was so unfamiliar with Human-Verse that he doubted  _ this  _ was how it was supposed to make xir react. “The end was well.” Xe decided. “Succinct. ‘ _ It falls apart’  _ creates nice... contrast. It was blunt.” Xe hoped xe sounded like xe knew what xe was doing.

She clapped, “Thank you! I didn’t know if I should scrap it or no—” An irritating beeping noise filled the air. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she scowled. “Work. Thanks for the input! We can talk more later. Bye!” She ran away.

Weird. Humans were— Ki’paldagr smirked, fanged teeth menacing nearby crew-members. Yes, Humans were  _ quaint, _ but not bad. At least they were interesting, if nothing else.

At least she smiled, when xe listened.

As xe walked to xir sleeping chamber, xe thought of twining words and laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The haiku is not my best work, but it's something I pulled from a long time ago, so. This chapter needs some TLC so I will go back to edit it later.
> 
> If you like any of the characters and would like to see more of them, let me know! I've grown attached to a few myself and wouldn't mind writing them again.


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